Within ten minutes of the time originally allowed, the Battalion had passed over to the "Sarnia." As she sheered off loud cheers were given for the captain of the "Ivernia" and groans for one of his officers whom the men considered had been, on the voyage, over niggardly with the rations. The packet boat, her decks rather tightly packed with troops, moved down the Bay between the lines of the warships, whose crews cheered and cheered again those now leaving for the front. Darkness was falling as the transport entered the open sea and steamed at 17 knots in the direction of Anzac—60 miles away to the north-east.
Some two hours elapsed and then star shells, bursting over Achi Baba, near the Southern end of the Peninsula, gave the newcomers a first glimpse of the "real war." Later on the guns could be heard and shell explosions witnessed on the plain of Helles where the VIII. Corps and the French had been for the previous five months. Keen were the watchers on the deck of the "Sarnia" and keener still they became as the rugged mass of Sari Bair loomed out of the sea. It was then known that the end of the journey was at hand.
Nearing the Peninsula at this point—opposite Williams' Pier—resembled somewhat an approach to Mt. Eliza on a dark night by boat from Perth Water. Lights shone out from dugouts constructed in the steep slopes, moving lights were discerned on the beach beneath, and the crest line was in darkness except when now and then illuminated by the flash of a bomb, shell, or gun. The simile could be pursued no further, for to those who had not yet been in action the noise going on seemed to indicate that some fierce fighting must be in progress. The dull but powerful thud of exploding hand bombs, the sharper crashing explosion of shell, the report of a discharging gun and the roar of its projectile, echoed and re-echoed, in its flight along one of the numerous ravines, induced belief that very little time must elapse before the 28th would be "in it." It turned out otherwise, however, and subsequent experience showed that these signs and sounds were the mere accompaniment of a "quiet night."
WILLIAMS' PIER.
Where the 28th landed. Stores in the foreground. The vessel on the left
was sunk to act as a breakwater and afterwards used as a reservoir for
drinking water. Trawlers in the distance.
Photo. lent by Mr. T. Pritchard.[ToList]
The "Sarnia" stopped her engines when about a mile from the shore. Almost at once one or two flat craft, black in colour and without funnel or rigging, were observed approaching. As they drew alongside a staff officer came up the transport's gangway and delivered the orders for landing the troops. The disembarkation commenced at once—the officers and men filing down the gangway on to the waiting barges. These barges had been given the name of "beetles." They were constructed of bullet-proof iron plates, were propelled by motor engines set astern, could attain a racing speed of five knots, and were designed to carry 50 horses or 500 men with stores, ammunition and water. Built for the Suvla landing, the "beetles" had fully proved their usefulness, but certainly they lacked every element of comfort.
During the disembarkation it was noted that a destroyer had moved in on the right and was directing her searchlight on Gaba Tepe and vicinity. This prevented any observation of the landing process from the direction of the Turkish lines in that quarter. Occasionally she fired her guns and generally gave the impression of intense watchfulness.
By midnight everybody was free of the ship, and the Battalion, leaving Williams' Pier and guided by a staff officer, stumbled along the beach in a northerly direction for a little over a mile to the shelter of Waterfall Gully—a small hollow in the western side of Bauchop's Hill. Two platoons of "A" Company, under Captain Montgomery, had been left on the beach for fatigue duty there. They did not rejoin the unit until the 25th September.
Fatigued with the long day, and overburdened with the load of equipment, rest was the first essential. An attempt was made to form a bivouac, but so small was the space available, and so rough the ground, that the idea had to be abandoned. The men were told to lie down where they were—amongst disused trenches, numerous latrine pits, and close to the remains of the 5th Connaught Rangers (88th) who had been decimated in the fighting of the previous month.